A Father's Pride
by Alita James
Summary: Sometimes megalomaniacal genius father's can have fun too.


A Father's Pride

**A Father's Pride**

"I am going to kill your father Clark!"

Clark smiled warmly at the greeting from his husband as he walked casually into Lex's office, greeting Patricia, Lex's long suffering PA as he went past her station. "I don't think my mother will be very pleased Lex." Came Clark's matter of fact response.

"I don't care it will be the satisfaction of knowing he will not be able to poison my child's mind." Lax pronounced resolutely.

Clark paused to look at the megalomaniacal genius as he pored over the various documents on his table. Ignored them and made a beeline for his husband. Clark laughed as Lex tried to fend him off. But allowed a kiss to land on his bald head. "So," Clark leaned casually against the table holding his husband in the loose circle of his arms, "Why do you want to kill my father?"

"Nathan wants to be a mechanic." Lex said as if it was the worst thing imaginable.

Clark paused before responding, "Nathan is 5 he wants to be something new every week. Last week he wanted to be a sponge so he could just flop about. You had to lure him out of the bathroom with an Oreo."

Lex grumped, "That is not pertinent to the issue. A mechanic Clark! There is no way a son of mine is going to grub about in old engines!"

Clark loved it when Lex got all huffy about such silly things like this. "Perhaps he can become a rocket engineer and design and build the worlds fastest space crafts."

Lex listened to this suggestion and a large very Luthoresque grin appeared on his face. "We could ask the AI for help. That would show Bruce." Lex said smugly, "Metropolis could have a space programme before Gotham."

Clark rolled his eyes as Lex went off on a flight of fancy. But before Lex's musing to help his son take over the known universe got very far they were interrupted.

"Hello Daddy, hello Papa." Came a cheerful call.

Clark turned around to greet his son and stopped in his tracks.

There standing in the doorway, a wonderfully large grin on his face and grey eyes twinkling in a cherubic face was Nathan Julian Kent-Luthor. Nestling in his tousled brown curls was a diamond incrusted tiara. He stood resplendent in a pink frilly tutu, batman t-shirt, yellow wellington boots and a long pearl necklace slung around his neck.

Running to his Daddy Lex, Nathan announced proudly, "Daddy, don't I look pretty?"

Lex rested his head on Clark's chest and muttered, "I am going to kill your mother as well."

Clark was pleased he had his super powers to keep him safe. He didn't know what his mother was counting on perhaps her apple pie could save her.

Clark knelt down so that his son could look at him eye-to-eye. "So what are you supposed to be young man?"

Nathan answered in a matter of fact tone, "A crime fighting-super-princess-hero of cause papa."

Lex smiled he couldn't fault his son on taste and who said all superheroes had to wear spandex? The outfit was wildly. Perhaps he could get his R&D department to do something with that. The Batman t-shirt had to go naturally. He didn't want his son associated with the pointy eared nutcase.

"Lex." Clark said in a warning tone, "Our son looks fine as he is and he doesn't need his father to unleash his minions from his secrete R&D department to start interfering."

Lex was about to reply when he looked at Nathan again. As he pulled his grandmother Lillian's silk opera gloves further up his arm to his armpits and then adjusted his tiara.

Clark picked up his son and said, "We think you look wonderful. Do you think I can borrow the tiara the next time I go on patrol?"

"No papa this is my special ti-ra-ra. But ask daddy to get you one." Came Nathan's earnest response.

Clark turned to his husband, "Well Lex will you buy me a tiara so that I can look this fabulous when I go out on patrol?"

How could he say no to Clark or Nathan. Lex allowed himself to be plastered with kisses from both of his men and did not mind the indignity of floating around in his office on Thursday afternoon. Plans, spreadsheets and reports forgotten, he wallowed in the moment of supreme silliness and joy.


End file.
